


Chaos Of The Sane

by AnxiousVoidPress



Category: Chaos Of the Sane, Palaye Royale (Band), Royal Council - Fandom, Victorian Era - Fandom, emerson barrett - Fandom
Genre: 19th Century, 19thCentury, Alternate Universe - Real World, Bands, Books, Drama, EmersonBarrett, Emotional Abuse, Gore, Horror-Thriller, Insanity, Lots of chapters, Murder, Murderer, NO-RAPE, NoRape, NoSex, Other, PalayeRoyale, Physical Abuse, Psychological, PsychologicalThriller, Psychopath, RemingtonLeith, Schizophrenia, SebastianDanzig, Standalonestory, Victorian, Victorian era, Victorianera, horror thriller, killer, lotsofblood, mentalillness, notsmut, palaye, palaye royale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousVoidPress/pseuds/AnxiousVoidPress
Summary: "Perfectly sane, frighteningly normal, and yet capable of extraordinary violence."Death runs in the family and at the home of 22nd Dorset street. Dying at a young age always seemed to be expected of them especially for his older brother.A gruesome murder preformed right before it's eyes leaving it broken, a monster of it's former self. The grief and the hatred fuels it to commit those same vile acts, as it spirals into a never ending and unforgiving chaos.The blood drips from the wounds of it's victims; of its unforgiving acts, as it hits the floor, like that of a rain drop. This is the chaos of Emerson Bennett. (Barrett)(This story is also posted on Wattpad under the same name)
Relationships: None
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> This Story Chaos of the Sane is also posted on Wattpad under the same name.
> 
> WARNING
> 
> Before you continue we'd like to warn you that this story contains graphic violence and graphic murder. As well as physical and emotional abuse. If any of this triggers you do not continue.   
> But if you choose to venture into the depths of the void, don't get lost. Have a wonderful time.

**_November 13, 1880. The east end of London, United Kingdom._ **

**T** he streets were dark and empty, the pearly glow of the moon being the only source of light. Only a few out at this time of evening. I watched her every move, from the way she shivered as a breeze passed, down to the hitch of her breath as she inhaled and exhaled. A lone maiden, she walked alone. What a vulnerable position? The tiny pitter-patter of her feet quickened with each step on the hard stone of the road.

Upon further observation of the woman, I hadn’t fully noticed what she was wearing. Her dress was off the shoulder and hoisted up to her knees, revealing black stockings underneath. She wore a matching corset pulled tight around her waist, and her hair in loose ringlets. A woman of the night walked before me.

The chaos of my mind had begun taking control, consuming me, and leaving but a shell of my former self. These parasitic tendencies only pushed me further into darkness. Beckoning me to commit such vile acts, for I am an unholy man. Excommunicated and thrown out like an unwanted child. I quickened my pace, getting close enough to tap her on the shoulder. Startled, she flinched and turned to face me. 

“How do you do, madam?” I inquired, tipping my hat slightly.

“Mighty fine. And you?” Her voice was seductive. It pulled me in in all the right ways, but that wasn’t the point of this.

“As good as any man can get on a night like this,” I replied with a slight smirk.

“And what does a gentleman like yourself want from a lady like me?” She continued batting her long eyelashes.

I took a step toward her. “I think you ought to know what I want.” 

Wrapping her fragile arms around my neck, she leaned in closer. “I’d be obliged to give you whatever that may be, but... it may come with a price,”

I chuckled, resting my gloved hands on her waist. “Is that so?” I said with a slight crook of the neck. “How much?” 

She hesitated, “How much are you willing to offer?” 

“Fourpence.” It wasn’t much, but it was all I could give to her at the moment. Reaching into the pocket of my suit coat, I handed her the coins. She smiled. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir,” 

I returned the smile, drawing her face closer to mine. I kissed her lips roughly. It had no emotion behind it, no love. The woman pulled away, removing herself from me. She twirled and spun around with one of an elegant grin. I then took her by the hand, leading the unsuspecting soul to her doom. 

“Where are we going?” She asked. I glared back at her, only giving a smile. She waited for a few moments, and then asked again, a sense of nervousness in her tone. I didn’t reply, just continuing to pull her along, that is before she attempted to jerk her hand from mine. 

I grabbed her wrist more firmly and pulled her, so her face was inches away from mine. I sneered at her. 

“I did not  _ pay _ to be asked questions.” I snapped. “Is it not your job to be coming with me?” She looked up at me with wet doe-like eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but bit her tongue back and looked down. And with a swish of her skirt, she was wrapped around my arm and by my side once more. 

Maybe I should be more considerate toward her after all this would be her last few moments on this earth, but I swallowed my pride. I didn’t feel the need to be kind to her any longer. She had probably been treated far much worse by other men.

I guided her to a nearby alley. She bit her lip, holding back a sense of fear.

“You know... Perhaps I shall give you back your fourpence and be on my way..” Her voice wavered as she spoke. I looked down at her.

“My darling, there is no need to be afraid. Besides, you’re not going anywhere,” I said with a devilish smirk. She tried to pull away from my harsh grip on her hand once more, but it was no use. 

“Sir please, I think I really must be going,” 

She said as tears started to prick from the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t be like that love,” 

Soft, lovely music began to play from the entrance of the alleyway. A tight smile grew across my face as I grabbed the woman’s other hand and made her dance with me. She was reluctant at first, attempting to flee from my embrace, but I didn’t let her leave. Eventually, she soon gave in. We waltzed around the alley with me in the lead hand in hand. My small and oh so frail partner was forcibly dancing with me. My hand flicked to my pocket before resting on the woman’s waist as the tune faded out.

My gaze fell to my only “partner” as our faces drew nearer and nearer. I took in her sweet scent and closed my eyes. We were so close that our lips brushed over each other. Her eyelashes tickled at my cheeks, and our lips locked together at once. My hand moved to the small of her back. Something cold and sharp held in my hand as I slowly began to point it at her spine. I moved my mouth from hers and looked back down at her sweetly, and she looked back at me, her eyes fluttering.

“Goodbye, my love...” I whispered. And before she could react, I plunged the knife into her spine. She took a sharp intake of breath, and her face turned into anguish and pain. Blood spurted from her corset, onto the knife, and ran down my gloved hands. I dragged the knife out of her back and brought it to my side. I couldn’t fathom how much pain she was experiencing, but why should I care? 

“My darling... Whatever could be the matter?” I stroked her cheek. She attempted to push me off of her, to put up some sort of a pitiful fight. I chuckled and pinned her to the ground. “You seem in pain... Let me help.” Tears pricked at her eyes as I thrust the blade deep into her thigh. 

“You see, honey? The pain is gone. It has moved.” She spat in my face at those words. Complete disgust filled my being as I wiped her saliva with my sleeve. I had let my anger get the best of me, and I struck her hard, causing a loud yelp from the woman. I gripped her jaw firmly and watched her squirm as I twisted the knife.

I chuckled deeply, as red crimson soon began to spill from the corners of her mouth from the wound in her back. The raw metallic smell of blood shortly consumed her sweet scent. I grabbed the knife and pulled it out of her leg. I sighed.

“Why don’t we get this corset off of you, hmm? It makes me helping you so much harder.” I ripped the piece of clothing off of her and tore off the top of her dress. She cried out, but I put a hand over her mouth. 

“Now, now my sweet, we don’t want anyone hearing you,” 

I took the knife and made tiny cuts onto her stomach. Not deep enough to draw blood, but only to make a ‘sketch.’ of the sort. I then went over the cuts, carving small flowers into her exposed body. I traced them with my finger before spreading them apart so her blood could flow from my art. She gritted her teeth and tried to hold on to what life she had left. 

I caressed her face softly and looked into her fear-stricken eyes. I traced the flowers once more. 

“Oh, my sweet, how beautiful you have become... Now don’t close your eyes just yet! One more thing.” 

I took the knife, starting at the bottom of her stomach and slowly pushed it down before gliding it up the middle of her stomach, over her heart, and plunged it deep into her throat. She struggled and attempted to claw at her throat before her eyes slowly closed as the air escaped her lungs. She fluttered her long eyelashes one last time and died. 

“My dear... Goodbye and Goodnight.” I smiled happily down at her and took off my gloves and discarded them onto her dead body. I brushed myself off and strolled out of the alleyway with a wide smirk plastered on my face. Some men and women walked past the alley. And me? I happily waved to them and said my goodnights. 


	2. Hopeless Feeling

**_November 19th, 1880._ **

_ Death comes to us all, some physical, others a metaphorical one. A part of me died on that cold night. Seeing his lifeless body lying there, and knowing that there was nothing I could do to save him. He knew he was going to die, right there, in my arms, bleeding out. And I let it happen. _

_ "Are you ready yet or not!" I heard Sebastian yell from downstairs. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I began slipping on my black dress shoes. I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs of our quiet house. It felt dark and cold now that all the life had been drained out of it or instead- killed. Sebastian knocked quietly on my door. _

_ "Emerson... Are you ready yet?" He said with growing impatience. I finished putting on my shoes before looking out the window. It was a dark, gloomy, and cold day. Fitting for a funeral. I opened my door coming face to face with my older brother. We stared at each other for a second before I looked down and pushed passed him. I could not bring myself to speak to him at all for the past week. Ever since  _ **_he_ ** _ had died, my whole life had fallen apart, and had no other way of getting back on my feet. So I was forced to move in with Sebastian, the only family I had left. _

_ As I walked past him, I heard his footsteps slowly begin to follow me. _

_ "You know, you can't just ignore me for the rest of your life." He said as he walked next to me. _

_ I sighed. It's not that I no longer liked my older brother, but striking up a conversation with him felt peculiar. _

_ "I just do not feel like talking right now, with everything that's happened.." I said with uncertainty, before quickening my pace down the stairs and to the front door.  _

But that was over a year ago, and oh, how things have changed. They have gone just swimmingly what with Sebastian becoming a fucking drunkard, it has been great. My now long and forgotten dead "lover" was still rotting in the alleyway I had left her in. It had been a couple of days since then, and I was itching for the feeling of sinking a knife into another human's flesh and feeling their warm blood trickle down my hand. But sadly, I could not because I wasn't as lucky as I had liked to be. It had only been a couple of days since I started searching for my next victim.

I woke up late in the morning as the sun beamed down on my face. I rubbed my eyes groggily and pushed my legs over the side of the bed. I then slowly got up and walked over to my closest, blindly grabbing some clothes and hoping they looked presumably decent together. The fabric of my shirt rubbed against my skin, causing a fair amount of pain to my forearms and lower chest, but I tried not to pay it any mind. I pulled my dark brown hair away from my shoulders and into a ponytail, tying it off with a ribbon. 

I looked out my window and up to the large ball of light that beamed down on the city. It was early. Sebastian would be at work right now, leaving the house to myself until about 9:00 pm. I haven't been able to find employment lately with well- Anyhow, that left me to have 12 hours of alone time without the insane drunkard coming home and doing whatever the hell he wants.

My eyes darted to the knife on the end table. I wanted to go for it. I craved to sink it into the flesh of another unsuspecting soul. Or maybe onto myself- " _ No Emerson, don't think like that _ ," Instead, I decided to go downstairs and see if Sebastian had left any breakfast behind, I didn't feel up to the task of making myself any. Finally, leaving the comfort of my room, I opened the door and slowly made my way downstairs. And then I saw him.  **He** was passed out, an empty bottle hanging from his hands and laying on the couch- drooling. I stopped in my tracks almost at the bottom of the stairs and froze.

Why was he still here? My eyes cast upon the bottle in his hand. He must've been drinking all night. He only ever did this on the weekends. What the hell was he doing? I snuck down the rest of the stairs, and into the kitchen, and then into the pantry. Usually, I'd eat what was leftover from Sebastian's breakfast, but seeing as he hadn't even gotten up for work, I just got some bread and salted meat. While I was rummaging through the pantry trying to find the food, my elbow knocked into a nearby pot. It fell off the shelf and loudly clanged to the floor.

"Shit-" I breathed out as I heard Sebastian stomp over to the kitchen, muttering angrily under his breath. I got up slowly and turned to face him, a terrible decision on my part.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, You little bitch?!" He yelled in my direction. I shrank back slightly at the volume of his voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing! Are you going to answer me or not! Waking me up this early in the morning.." He continued.

"I- was just getting something to eat," My voice wavered as I spoke. The sudden outbreak of yelling swelled onto my current state, and out the door went any plans of having a remotely good day.

"Could you not knock over things and cause a ruckus for once!" He huffed. "You bloody cluts!"

I stiffened "I'm sorry- I don't mean to-"

"Just shut up!" He yelled, not letting me finish my sentence. I looked down slightly, biting my tongue. Why did this have to be happening right now? Sebastian huffed before turning his head over to the window and stamping his foot down. My hands started to tremble as I waited for something to happen, but the rest was just a faint buzz, with momentary patches of sound escaping, and something about being late. I then felt a sharp sting on my cheek and more yelling before I heard the door slam.

A couple of minutes later, I finally came back to my senses. My entire body had started to shake, and my hand had formed a tight fist around the bread. Squeezing it, I threw the bread on the floor to stomp on it. I was tired of Sebastian treating me like this, but I had no idea what to do! So much of me wanted to cry and scream my lungs out, to forget, but I needed to calm down. I needed to cool off. If Remington were here, everything would be okay, and none of this would be happening. I absent-mindedly started walking out of the pantry and up the stairs, standing in front of a door, Remington's room. I wiped my slanted nose and took a deep breath as I stared down at the handle. 

I hesitantly turned the handle, entering the room slowly. It was the same as I had last seen it. Stripped of any sense of personality and left bare. I curled up onto the bed and clenched the sheets. I wasn't able to contain myself any longer. I began to cry for how Sebastian's been, for the way I've been feeling, and for Remington. Tears streamed down my face, leaving me in a numbed state as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

I awoke hours later in what seemed to be around mid' day. My eyes felt heavy and sticky as I looked around the room. It was comforting yet depressing. I slowly got out of the bed, stretching my arms and back from the uncomfortable position and left the room, heading back down the stairs. I needed somewhere to cool off. That nap hadn't helped much, and I needed something to do.

I walked over to the front door, stopping to slip on my shoes before looking back towards the kitchen and the shiny knife left on the table. My eyes glinted with interest.

Not but moments later, I was making my way down the hard stone road towards the direction of the library. Among many other things, philosophy books had always seemed to calm me down, and so did another particular hobby.  _ (But that doesn't matter to you, does it?) _

I began nearing the entrance of the old and tall building. I pushed open the large doors and looked around. More people than usual seemed to be roaming its bookshelves and tables. The librarian, Grace, was sitting at the front desk and looked up at me when I entered, her curly blonde hair bounced as she moved. She waved to me and beckoned me over.

"Hello, Mr. Bennett! It's great seeing you again." She said in a hushed but excited voice. I forced a smile in her direction as I walked over to her.

"Hello, Ms. Noelle. How are you today?" I replied politely.

"Oh, mister Bennett, I told you to call me Grace. I've been doing splendidly, even better now that you are here. It's been such a long time since you've last visited." A grin pulled onto her face, stretching out her heavy upper lip to show her bright smile underneath. 

"I suppose it has." It had been a whole month and a half since I visited. I was hoping she would forget about me. She huffed.

"I suppose you'll be off to the philosophy section then? We've gotten more books since the last time you've been here."

"Yes. Perhaps We'll speak again soon." I didn't want to speak to her again. If I had it my way, I'd be out of here before she could say another word to me. I quickly walked away from the front desk and to the philosophy section of the library.

As soon I turned into the aisle, I saw a familiar face. A woman; she was searching through the books looking for something. Her attire was elegant and sophisticated. A large embroidered bustle and was held round her slim waist, presumably acquired by a corset. The dress gave her the appearance of high shoulders, and her skirt reached down to the floor and trailed a few inches behind her. Her hair was braided and tied up high under a large hat that rested on her head. She was stunning.

I walked down the aisle to the woman. My mind flashed to the kitchen knife I stuffed into my back pocket.

"What are you looking for?" I asked her. She jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to speak to her. She turned her head to look up at me before quickly standing up.

"Oh! Emerson. I wasn't expecting to see you again. I'm just browsing." She said as she slowly began to become comfortable around me. 

"I know a particularly good book. I think you'd like Miss Watson. Although I left it at my house." I paused, "If you like, we can go get it maybe perhaps have some lunch together," I said to her, holding my hand out.

"That sounds lovely. But you need not be formal, call me Emelina." She said as she took my hand, and we strolled out of the library. Luckily Grace hadn't been paying attention. She would've tried to strike up another conversation, one which I had no time for.

We quietly walked down the street hand in hand, minutes later, we arrived at the house. I stopped, removing my hand from hers and raised it to my lips. I kissed it before guiding her up to the door and letting her in. Her face turned into mild disgust upon walking into the house.

"My sincerest apologies Ms. Emelina, I had forgotten my brother trashed the house last night, although I'm sure that you won't be bothered by it much soon," She looked over to me with a nervous expression as I locked the door behind me.

"Why did you lock the door?" She said with uncertainty.

"Don't you use the locks in your house?"

"I.. Yes, of course. Sorry, that was foolish of me." She replied, looking around anxiously. I put my hand to her cheek.

"Don't worry," I said, brushing her cheek. "We keep the books in the basement. It's finished, and we have a door going out to the back yard." I lied. I tried to make it seem less "Scary," so she would trust me. "Come with me." I grabbed her hand, and we slowly advanced to the basement door. She hesitated for a second but didn't try to pull away. I opened the door and creaked it open slowly.

"Ladies first," I said slowly. She flashed me a small smile before picking up her skirt and slowly descended downstairs. I followed her and closed the door behind me. 

My arms twitched, and my heart began to speed up and flutter in my chest. Excitement ran through me as we advanced down the stairs slowly. Just a little more. I thought. When we were halfway down, my muscles seemed to move on their own as a wicked smile grew across my face. My arms rose from when they sat at my side and  _ I pushed her.  _ The smile tightened, as she tumbled down the stairs, a sickening snap echoed off the walls as her body collided with the hard stone of the basement floor. 


	3. Vast Emptiness

**_November 19th - 22nd, 1880._ **

The loud thud resonated through the basement as I descended the rest of the stairs lighting a nearby candle and stepping over her body as she slowly tried to push herself up from the ground. I squatted down in front of her taking her chin in my hand.

“Whatever could be the matter, Emelina?” I said bitterly. She made a feeble attempt to push my hand away as blood trickled from her hairline and down to her temple. My eyes wandered over to her arm, which bent behind her in a sickly manner.

Tears began to form in her eyes as she groaned in pain, looking up at me. 

“You sick bastard.” She spat out slowly. I chuckled at her words. 

“Oh, why don't we see what this does!” She looked up at me with fear in her eyes as I began to approach her arm. She tried to squirm away and fight back, but I had her pinned down. 

“Please…- Emerson! Why are you doing this?!” She cried out at me. 

“Why not? It really is just too much fun!” I grabbed her broken arm and yanked hard on it, feeling the bone crash and slip away from where it used to sit. She yelped and cried in pain, kicking her legs, trying to claw at my face. I laughed, still holding onto her broken arm as I shoved it upwards through her skin. It burst through her muscle and ripped apart her perfect skin as blood rapidly gushed out. A blood-curdling scream escaped her lips before I slapped my hand over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch!” I yelled at her. She bit into my hand with force. I felt her teeth sink into my flesh, blood oozing out from the bite. I ripped my hand away from her, kicking her hard in the face knocking her back a couple of feet. “You fucking whore..” 

I stalked over to her, grabbed her by the neck, and dragged her up against the wall. I tightened

my grip around her throat as she began to gasp for air. I brushed my lips against her ear and whispered.

“Look, Emelina, no hard feelings, right?” I bit down hard on her earring and ripped it out. It pulled downwards through her ear, ripping the lobe in half. Crimson droplets began to form from the tear, dripping onto the floor. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, and a silent scream erupted. I spat the earring out of my mouth and removed my hand from her neck. She slowly sunk to the ground, sobs racking her body as I looked down at her. 

“You’ll bleed out soon, my dear,” I said as I squatted down at eye level with her. “Must make it worth it, hm?” I pressed my lips onto hers roughly, kissing her as she tried to pull away. I pulled the knife out of my back pocket and shoved it into her stomach. My hand twitched as I felt the thrill of plunging my blade into her perfect body. I felt the warmth of her blood gush from her mouth to caress my lips. 

I twisted the knife further into her, our mouths barely touching. I wiped away more of her blood that had begun to smear my lips.

“Oh, Emelina... It seems there is a knife stuck in your stomach, whatever will you do?” 

“Shut.. up! You horrible, vile man.” She croaked and shuttered out between gasps for air. Tears began to form in her eyes, rolling down her beautiful face. I wiped them away and sat next to her. Her hazy eyes shot to me with a piercing glare.

“You know. It doesn’t even matter since you’re dying.” I started as I rubbed the blood off my hands. “My brother beats me. He gets blackout wasted and hell-bent on making my life a living nightmare. I know you only ever talked to us for Remington, Emelina. You just wanted to get into his pants, and now you gave me a shot. Oh, what a mistake you made.” I grabbed the knife and yanked it out of her stomach as she screamed in anguish. “Goodbye, cunt.” I stabbed the knife into the front of her skull. Her body jerked from shock, twitching for a moment before her head lolled to the side as she slid farther down the wall. 

Hot angry tears started to pour down my cheeks as I contemplated the words I had just said. Emelina had been a childhood friend of ours. She used to live across the street before her parents got money, and all five of us had occasionally visited her to play games. Back when the other three were still alive, that is. Her and Remington had been exceptionally close; she used to have a crush on him when we were younger and even before he- I would always catch her trying to get his attention- 

Once he had died, she had tried to get with Sebastian, showing visible signs of wanting to be with him. But after she saw how shit face drunk he can get, she stopped and tried to make a move on me.

It was an odd situation since we all saw her as a sister for a long time. But now the bitch was dead, and it felt good; it felt amazing. I pushed myself up from the wall and walked over to the shelf to grab the book I mentioned to her. I walked back up the basement stairs, leaving her body to rot down below the house. Sebastian never goes down here in the first place. 

I laid down on the couch, my head propped up with a pillow, and crossed my legs. Letting out a sigh of relief, I opened the book and began to read.

_ Three days later _ .

Happy birthday to me. 

That'll be my first Birthday without Remington, and with Sebastian being a drunk. What a time to be alive, what a time to be 24! 

Minutes later, after I had gotten out of bed and put on some decent clothes in an attempt to look nice today, I made my way back downstairs.

And do you want to know the best part of today is? Well, It fell on a Saturday, and you know what happens to my brother on Saturdays. He gets shit faced drunk the night before and is hungover all day. Rinse and repeat, and it’s his endless cycle. 

As I'm walking down the stairs, I think about what I could do to get out of this hell hole called a house. Maybe I’ll go back to the library, but I don’t want to see Grace again. Or perhaps I’ll just go out to a restaurant and stay there for a couple of hours. The possibilities were practically endless. 

As I entered the living room, I found Sebastian conscious for once. I stopped a couple of feet behind the couch. 

“Wow, it seems I’m up before  _ you _ for once,” Sebastian grumbles as he turns to look at me. 

“What are you all dressed up for? Finally, got yourself a girlfriend or something? That would be a knee slapper, that one.” He continued laughing to himself. 

“ I would expect you of all people to remember, but I suppose that alcohol isn’t just rotting your liver,” I replied before I realized what I had said. The squeaking sound of the couch made me realize how badly I just fucked up. He quickly got up from the couch and stomped over to me. With a bottle in one hand, he pointed and wagged his finger at me. 

“You wanna repeat that ya fuckin bitch?” Sebastian said fiercely, getting in my face.

“It's the 22nd of November. Remington would’ve remembered.” I mumbled under my breath. 

“Well, Remington is fucking dead! Now you tell me what the fuck I forgot with my “Rotten Brain” before I fucking beat you to death!” He yelled at me, rubbing his temple as he tightened his grip on the bottle. My throat felt dry as my heart hammered in my chest. My muscles locked my quivering body in place as I met his gaze. 

“November 22nd. My birthday.” I said shortly. 

“Could’ve just said that the first time. ...Fucking dumbass.” He pushed past me and stumbled into the kitchen. A sting ached in my chest as I felt hot tears swell in the corners of my eyes.

“You know you could be a little compassionate for once. Like you used to be!” I yelled back to him. All I heard was a grunt in response and him rummaging through the wine cabinet. There was a sudden knock on the front door. My head shot up. We weren't expecting any visitors, we never did. Who would want to come to this “marvelous” household? 

“Can you fucking get that!” I heard Sebastian yell at me from the kitchen. I let out an annoyed sigh as I walked over to the front door kicking some of Sebastian’s bottles under the couch. (We needed a maid). I adjusted my hat and flattened out my shirt before opening the door, and when I realized who was on the other side, I froze. 

How the fuck was  _ she _ here? What the hell was  _ she  _ doing here? My thoughts began to race through my head, tripping over each other, and fighting one another. I couldn’t think or hear anything. It felt like a thousand voices yelling at me at once. Then I felt someone shake me slightly, and I was partially let out of my current state. I looked at her beautiful face. 

“Emerson, did you not hear me?” She asked with concern in her eyes. 

“Oh um,” I chuckled, nervously brushing some hair out of my face. "I uh no, I didn’t. I did not hear you.” 

“Well, I brought you this since it is your birthday and all. Also, I was wondering if I could come in and spend some time together like we used to.” She smiled sweetly. She had a brown parcel that sat next to her on the steps in front of the house. But I could hardly focus on that. I could scarcely concentrate on Emelina for that matter.

“Uh, Y-yes yes, you can come in just like old times... Don’t mind, Sebastian, he’s uh just, um he’s hungover, but he won't bother us while someone's here yes..” I said without thinking as the words seemingly fell out of my mouth, and I began to sweat. She gave me an odd look before picking up the parcel and making her way inside as I held the door open for her. My mouth almost hung open in shock that she was here, still alive! I had killed her just three days ago. What was she doing walking around and breathing! How dare she be alive.

  
  


“S-Sebastian, we have an- uh...- GUEST! GET OVER HERE!!” I yelled at him. I heard him stumble out of the pantry to stand in the kitchen doorway... He spotted Emelina, immediately putting his bottle down on the floor to come to join us. My hands began to tremble, and my eye wouldn’t stop twitching. 

“Oh! H-hi Emelina. It's great seeing you again, it's been a while.” He said, nervously trying to hide his alcoholic stench, failing horribly. He gave me an odd look. Emelina looked over at him with a fake smile. 

“I suppose it has Mr. Bennett. I just came to drop off a present for Emerson, considering today is his birthday and all,” She laughed sweetly. Didn’t I just kill her? Why is she still here? What is she doing? She shouldn’t be here. Why is she here?  _ Why is she here?! _

“Do you mind if I set this down?” She said, motioning towards the heavy box in her hands.

“Not at all!” Sebastian said a little too quickly as she put the box down on the table with a loud thunk. She turned to me for a second, looking down at my hands and then to my face. She took my hands into her own.

“Emerson, I hope everything has been alright.” She gave an annoyed side-eye to Sebastian, who looked away quickly. “I think we’ll have to spend an evening together some other time. Because of  _ certain people _ .” I just nodded, barely listening to a thing she said. Sebastian gulped before looking back over to Emelina. 

“You can stay if you like. It is not a big deal.” He said.

“I really must be going.” She let go of my still shaking hands. “I hope you like your gift, Emerson.” She smiled at me, and with a swish of her large skirt, she left the room. For once, Sebastian seemed concerned for me. 

"Hey, are you alright?" Sebastian called out to me.

I didn't reply. My brain couldn't comprehend what Sebastian was saying. I just stood there, staring blankly at him. My eyes flickered, gazing at the world around me. Observing my surroundings, I inhaled sharply. Then, what one might describe as a zombie-like appearance on my face had contorted into a look of panic and confusion. Sebastian reached out to try and touch me, but I backed away from him. My breathing had heavied, turning into more of a hyperventilative state hitching every few seconds. Blood pounded in my ears, and my heart thudded in my chest. Along with that, I started to shake vigorously, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. 

“E-Emerson?” I heard Sebastian say faintly. I began to break down even more, and my legs wobbled beneath me. They had finally given in, and for whatever reason, Sebastian had caught me. Sebastian held me from under my arms as my legs collapsed beneath me and my knees dropped to the floor. Sebastian was kneeling down next to me holding my shoulders now as I found it hard to breathe-- to even think! My breath came out in harsh wheezes. Sweat began to drip from my forehead. I was freezing. My vision started to become fuzzy. 

My eyelids felt heavy as they began to slowly close. The world around me turned dark and blurry, only letting in scattered patches of light. Until my whole world was nothing but darkness and the faint whisper of someone yelling my name.    
  



	4. Vivid Dreams

**_November 23rd, 1880._ **

Buildings around me started to morph into what looked like some sort of empire, and it appeared that I was their ruler. It was just that- something felt off. It wasn't right. It was my empire, yes, but something was wrong very, very wrong. I kept hearing muffled voices every way I turned. I saw the same black figure in every single alleyway. It didn’t matter where I went, and It didn’t matter where I was, it would be there staring at me, and I would hear the voices pounding in my head all the time. 

"Come out!" I barked. 

The figure approached me slowly, and my breath hitched. It was Remington. The front of his chest was soaked with blood. It looked like he had been stabbed repeatedly. It was the same as the night he died. I fell to my knees, pained by the very sight of him. Tears began to form in my eyes, dripping onto the floor. Remington. The only person who had kept me going, who had kept me sane. I should have been the one to die. It should have been me. It always should’ve been me. Remington never deserved this. I felt his arms wrap around me. The blood from his wounds soaked into my shirt.

"I'm sorry Rem- I'm so sorry," 

I lamented between sobs. 

"You could have done something. You could have stopped this. This is all your fault." His voice rose as he spoke.

Those words cut like knives. I knew it wasn't Remington. Remington he-he was dead. He would never say anything like that to me, but it still hurt. I tore myself away from his embrace and arose. He simply smiled a wicked smile. Almost as if he enjoyed seeing me like this. 

This was a dream. No, This- this was a nightmare. None of this was real! 

"Why did you let me die, Emerson?" His voice interrupted my thoughts. 

"No- I didn't- I swear. I tried so hard to save you, I really did. This isn’t real, this is but a dream! All you are is a voice in my head!" My voice was breaking with every word and I began to tremble.

Although a part of what he said was true. If I had kept my mouth shut, maybe he would still be alive.

"I died because of you. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT EMERSON!" 

"NO! STOP IT! PLEASE STOP!" I screamed. I broke down, crawling into a fetal position and covered my ears. Tears streamed down my face. “THIS ISN’T REAL! THIS ISN’T REAL!  _ THIS ISN’T REAL!” _

His voice kept ringing in my ears. He wouldn't stop chanting it. Was it my fault? Maybe it was. Perhaps all that he was saying was true. Or maybe, it was the manifestations of my mind forcing me to believe such things. 

And then I began to choke, Smoke filled my lungs as it poured down my throat. I looked around, coughing and wheezing. Everything had caught fire. My utopia was crumbling and burning down around me. Darkness corroding my soul like bugs eating away at decaying remains, and then- just like that-

_ I woke up.  _

My body jolted awake, my lungs screaming for air, taking in heavy rigid breaths. I clutched the blankets around me and looked around my slightly dark room, my chest rising and falling with each rigid breath. I slowly began to calm down as I realized I was in my room. I had been placed on my bed, most likely by Sebastian. Then I heard a voice.

“Emerson! Y-you’re up I was so worried.” It was Sebastian. He put his hand on top of mine with concern. He sat in a chair next to my bed. His hair was scraggly as if he had been sleeping in his seat. Anger began to boil in my chest as I stared at him. The anger overwhelmed me as I lashed out at him.

“What do you mean you’re worried!? When have  _ you _ ever cared about me?!” I yelled at him and roughly pulled my arm away from his grasp. He stepped away from my bedside and spoke.

“Emerson- I Apologize for the way I’ve been acting. I let my grief get the best of me, but- I want to try and get better for you!” He spoke sincerely, but I refused to believe a word he was saying. I dug my blunt fingernails into my palms and clenched my fist. Wood creaked as I slammed my hand into the bedside. 

“Get OUT! YOU’RE A DIRTY LIAR!” I screamed at him as tears streamed down my face. My own heart began to beat in my ears. Fear began to resonate through my body as I spoke. I’ve never yelled at Sebastian before. His eyes widened when I yelled at him, sadness struck through his face and his eyes started to water. His body stiffened.

“O-.. okay I’ll leave you alone.” He turned and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. I sat on my bed for a few moments, a mess of emotions swirling through my body. I got out of the bed and stumbled over to the bathroom. Hot, angry tears still streaming down my face. An ache grew in my chest, causing a hollow feeling to erupt inside of me. I looked to the end table next to my bed and ripped open the top drawer. I grabbed the knife inside. Looking at its cool metal and its sharp point, I slid my finger across the back of the blade. I studied it carefully, each ridge and jagged edge, as thoughts started to brew in my head.

I threw on some clothes, careless of what I wore. I stormed down the stairs only to find nobody. Not like I needed him anyways, I scoffed. I headed to the door, slipped on my shoes, and made my way out of the house. 

I slammed the door behind me. Some people who were walking by gave me annoyed and dirty looks before quickening their pace. I stomped down the short steps that led down to the sidewalk. It was raining, as per usual in London, but I couldn’t be less bothered. I didn't feel like killing today. I couldn’t handle the stress. I just wanted some action. I wanted a fight. 

Blood soaked into the forearms of my shirt and stuck to my skin, much like the rain that drenched the rest of my body. The blood dripped from my arms and onto the hard concrete of the sidewalk as I stumbled down it. 

I began stumbling around the city. I didn’t know where I was going, anywhere would be fine. I just needed to find someone, anyone. Maybe someone to kill after all? But no, I didn’t feel up to the task today. I was lost in my own thoughts as I ran straight into someone, knocking them down. I just stared them down as they tumbled onto the ground before me. 


	5. DRUNKEN RAGE

**_November 24th, 1880._ **

"What the fuck if your problem bucko?!" The man fumed as he sat up. The putrid smell of alcohol hit me like a truck as he yelled. I stared at him blankly.

"I said. What's your fucking problem?! Are you gonna answer me or not!?" This man was so similar to Sebastian. But no, no this man could never be him.

"S-Sebastian is that you?" I stuttered dumbfounded. Fear crawled down my spine as I looked in the man's- No Sebastian's red eyes.

"Who the fuck is Sebastian!?" He sneered, slurring as he spoke. "Are you one of those lunatics or something?" He hooted with laughter. He pushed himself up from his position on the ground, smiling wickedly at me.

"You know what happens to lunatics like you?" He threatened. I only stared back at him with a puzzled expression.

A harsh right hook hit my jaw, slamming my bottom teeth into my top. Time seemed to move in slow motion. I stumbled back in shock, a metallic taste filled my mouth and dripped from my lips.

I wiped it from my mouth, blood smearing on my hand. Glaring at him, I threw a punch to "Sebastian's" stomach, causing him to double over in pain as I slammed my knee into his face. He grabbed his nose and growled angrily as blood dripped from his nostrils. My heartbeat in my chest deafening my hearing. Why did this all feel so odd? As if I was squashed between two planes of existence. Maybe I was starting to really see things.

"You petty bitch! You're going to fucking regret that!" He screamed at me. Running at me, he knocked me down onto the ground and kicked me in the stomach. Pain seared through my gut as I gritted my teeth. I slowly tried to get back up, but he pushed me down again.

My back slammed into a wall. The air knocked out of me. I tried to gasp for breath. My head lolling to the side I stared up at the man. I was weak and pitiful, unable to do anything... I guess things never change, do they?

"You should crawl back into that little hole you came out of!" "Sebastian" roared at me as he kicked me in the face. Blood rushed out of my nose and pain rang throughout my skull. He laughed, before grabbing me by my collar and yanking me forward. He reeled back his fist and punched me repeatedly in the face. Surprise shook me as loud thunks echoed in my head.

My eyes closed with every punch bashing my face. This man was similar to Sebastian... So very similar. Just like how Sebastian was so very similar to our father. Sometimes I wonder if he's like this because of the man, if our father was never like that would things be the way they are? Would they be... Better? Oh, who am I kidding? A ticklish feeling began to form in the back of my throat. _Things could never be different._

The feeling grew more and more intense before I could no longer contain it. I laughed along with the man. First a low chuckle, slowly erupting into a hysterical laugh, vibrating off the buildings and down the empty street. "Sebastian" stopped his assault abruptly.

"W-What in the world is wrong with you?! You freak!" He stuttered. I got back up, stepping forward to decrease the space between us. My assured gaze pierced his own. Fear smudged the lines on his face.

"What's wrong with me?!" I replied back loudly. The laughter is still racking my body. A black ring began to form around my right eye, bruises covered my face. The laughing racked my body and my chest ached.

I walked over to the man and wrapped my hands around his neck. The pulsating beat in his neck escalated as my grip tightened. The softness of his skin squeezed between my fingers, his delicate breath wheezed as the light faded from his eyes. He choked out in shock. Shaking hands clawed at my grip in an attempt to ease the hold.

"Such a shame." I hissed in his ear. "All that boasting... and where has it gotten you?" He glared at me as he kneed me in the stomach. The impact caused my hands to slip, freeing his neck from my grasp.

I heaved in anger as he ran off, screaming for help. What a coward, just like father. I looked down at my hands, my heart still beating furiously. My father... I didn't like to think of the man all that often in fact I could barely remember him to begin with. But I know he was a bastard and a coward. I pushed him from my mind and looked down the empty street.

Pain throbbed throughout my entire being and I felt.. Well, I couldn't really explain it. I smiled sluggishly as a laugh escaped my lips once more and I strolled down the street. The cold night air blew around me and I felt.. At peace. But peace never lasts long and I had already found myself at the front steps of my home.

I advanced up the steps and stopped at the door. Staring down at the cold, metal doorknob. I hesitantly creaked open the door, my eyes immediately shooting to Sebastian, sitting on the sofa. The feeling of disgust filled my chest as I stared at him. His head layed cradled in his hands, before he jumped up at the sound of the door.

"Where have you been?" Sebastian demanded.

"Out." I teased. "Why do you care?"

He narrowed his eyes and sighed.

"Emerson... I want to try and be a better brother for you, but you're making it impossible." He said.

I was silent for a second. He was lying again... Why else would he have beaten me up on the street earlier. He says he'll be better, he says he'll stop drinking, but nothing ever happens!

"Well, It doesn't seem so." He just sighed again at those words.

"Come here." He called.

I was hesitant at first, but then slowly walked over to him. He looked at me sadly.

"What happened to your face?"

"A bit of a tussle in the streets." I chuckled bitterly. Why didn't he remember?

"What are you fighting in the streets for?!" He barked. He ran a hand through his short hair before shooting his angry gaze back to me. "What the fuck is wrong with you huh?!" He clutched my shoulders, but not enough to hurt me. His hands were wet and clammy.

I tried to take a step away from him.

"Emerson answer me!" Worry spread through his face which reeked of alcohol. In fact his entire being stank of it.

"I didn't start anything, it was just an accident." I lied.

He let go of my shoulders.

"Go get some ice... From the kitchen. Be careful of the glass." He mumbled...

"Glass?"

"It's all gone." His voice was melancholic. Averting his gaze, Sebastian sat back down on the couch, tapping his foot. "Go on.."

I went over to the kitchen. Standing in the doorway I looked at the mess Sebastian had made. Shards of sharp glass littered the floor and puddles of alcohol covered them. All the alcohol cabinets were left wide open. Sebastian had smashed every bottle in the house, except for maybe the ones in the basement.

I stepped over the piles of broken glass and puddles of liquor, moving to the back of the kitchen where the icebox sat. . I grabbed a towel on my way there and opened the box only to find no ice. I grunted and slammed the icebox shut, tossing the towel on top of it.

Why wouldn't we have ice? Of course, the one time I needed it no one had bothered to make any. I glared back over my shoulder to the living room. We only had the ice machine so Sebastian could keep his precious alcohol nice and cold.

"Could've cleaned all this up!" I yelled to Sebastian as I carefully made my way out of the kitchen. Sebastian stared blankly at the wall from the sofa. I sniffed, the house smelled horrid. The reeking stench of alcohol tainted the house as I made my way upstairs and into my bedroom.

It's not like the stench was anything new. The house always smelled bad, whether it be from alcohol or the neglect of cleanliness. No one bothered to clean up anything... All the messes were always made by Sebastian however. He should be cleaning up after himself, not me. It was always Remington and I cleaned up the house together, never Sebastian.

I lay down on my bed restlessly, my body still aching from the fight. I looked around my room, only clean fucking place in this house. My eyes lazily landed on the box that she had brought just the other day _. Emelina._ How was she still alive? I killed her. A thousand thoughts began to race through my head never ceasing to stop. It felt like my skull was being ripped open as a loud buzzing sound exploded in my head. Erupting so loudly, I couldn't think or hear.

I clawed at my ears and covered them with my hands but it. Didn't. Stop. I stood up, pressing my hands to my head even harder. I yelled out in rage and annoyance. My head was splitting apart and all I could do was scream. _Why was this happening? How was this happening?_ The buzzing got louder and louder. Deafening my hearing and blurring my vision.

Enraged I began kicking at the wall repeatedly trying to get it to all just stop. And then it did. My mind went blank along with it all. My mouth moved. I was speaking but I couldn't control it. Incoherent words spilled out of my mouth; a sentence unable to form. Dull and hurried thuds began to approach my room.

The door was ripped open. I saw Sebastian standing in front of me holding my shoulders, saying something to me, shaking me, but all I could do was stare. I heard nonsense escape my lips as he tried to reach me. Sebastian's muffled voice soon became louder and coherent once more. I looked at him, confusion stretching across my face.

"What... What are you doing in my room...?" My eyes shot to the knife that lay on my end table, encrusted with blood.

"I... I heard you yelling and screaming." He said, "I wanted to see if you were okay..." His eyes had shot to the wall which had a fresh, large hole in it...

"Well, I'm fine, okay?" I lied. He let go of my shoulders walking over to the wall.

"What the hell did you do to the wall? You know how much money this will cost to fix!?" He turned around, glaring at me. "We don't have that much money, Emerson! This was expensive wallpaper too. Mom got it for us.."

"I'm sorry, I just got a bit- angry. That's all," I looked at the ground. Blood was still dripping from my nose.

"What's up with you lately huh? You're acting weird as hell." He looked back at the wall with heavy eyes. "And now you broke one of the few things mom got us before she.." His eyes drifted over back to me and to the blood dripping from my nose.

"I said I was sorry!" I yelled at him, bringing my face back up to meet him. He looked at me, angry and disappointed. It's like he thinks it's my fault moms dead.

"Go fix your nose or it'll look like shit for the rest of your life." He said. "And don't you dare yell at me again!" He continued before stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind him. I sighed and walked over to the bathroom that was connected to my room.

I stood in front of the mirror staring at my imperfect face, my thin lips, before taking my hand up to my nose and finding where the bone broke. Bracing myself I snapped it back in place. Pain shot through my face and I yelled out before clenching my teeth together, trying to muffle the sound. I slammed my fist on the counter as my eyes began to water from the pain pulsating through the bone.

My nose began to turn an even darker purple. I ripped open one of the drawers under the countertop and grabbed some plaster and cotton strips. I looked at the bottle trying to remember what I was supposed to do. I applied the plaster to my nose and slapped the cotton strips on. That would have to be good enough.

I huffed, thinking back to the fight in the street. That man looked exactly like Sebastian, acted like him too... Surely that had to be him, so why was he playing dumb about everything? Why was Sebastian even out on the streets to begin with? I laid down on my bed, looking up at the ceiling, my thoughts still a jumbled mess. I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. 


	6. MANIA

**_November 24th, 1880._ **

It was early morning. The night from before was horribly blurred and had left me with a broken nose and glass filled kitchen. Sebastian had smashed every bottle in the house making a mess that wouldn't be cleaned up any time soon.

I had decided to go for a stroll, a stroll that would lead to a messy relationship between a certain librarian and I. I was back at the library where I had lured Emelina to her death. I stood in front of the large hard oak doors. I wore whatever I'd grabbed from the closet..

I didn't have to look nice. I just wore a wrinkled dress shirt, pants, and dress shoes with no socks, not even bothering to tie my hair up. In fact, who would care? I surely didn't give a shit... Strangers gave me rude and disgusted looks all the way to the library.

I grinned up at the building before walking up the stairs and into the library. As soon as I set foot there, it was uncharastically empty except for a single person sitting at a lone table. Grace sat at the front desk once again. She grinned widely as the door opened.

"Hello wel-" The sentence was abruptly cut short. As soon as she saw me, her smile fell. Her eyes wandered over my face, from my broken nose to my attire. I twirled my hair as I stared at her.

"Hello there Mister Bennett.." She said with skepticism, "Interesting choice of attire today.." She remarked under her breath. She slowly pushed a strand of golden hair out of her face, her eyes never leaving me. I stood in the doorway looking at her. My brain and thoughts felt like static.

"Yes... Yes, you could say that." I croaked. She gave me an odd look.

"Mister Bennett... I um.. You should get out of the doorway.." A smirk painted my lips as I walked over to her.  
  
Her eyes glistened with regret for her words. "Your face-"

  
I leaned on the desk, my face close to hers. She inhaled sharply, her almond eyes frantically searching my face. The door behind me quickly opened and then slammed shut. I glanced behind me. The only other person in the library just left.

"What about my face?" I demanded.  
  


"W-What happened to it?" She stuttered. Her lips were trembling, it made her once strong jaw look so _weak_.

"I got into a fight, it was oh so horrible.." I giggled, sickly sweet.

"...Oh," She looked uncomfortable as she averted her gaze. I stared at her, my eyes drilling into the side of her face. As trailed down the side of her jaw, she had a square like face... But not to the point of it being _too_ square like. It was nothing compared to Sebastians.

"You seem... uncomfortable, _Grace._ " I spat her name. She looked back into my eyes. "Whatever could be the matter?" I smirked.

"I um.. You're back early... I thought you wouldn't be here for another month." She averted her eyes and took a step back. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to eye level with me. She yelped in surprise.

"I had a change of plans.."

"Mister Bennett- Y- you're hurting me." I stared back at her.

"Im.. hurting you?" I was still gripping onto her wrist tightly, staring into those brown almond eyes.

"Please- let go."

"You want ME to let go?" Her lips quivered slightly. "Please just let me go." She cried. I looked hard into her eyes before letting go of her wrist. She backed away from me.

"I think you should leave," She said in a low voice looking downward. I stood up.

"You weren't like this only five days ago _GRACE!_ " She flinched slightly at the sudden rise of my voice.

"Mister Bennett. I think it is time for you to leave," She said firmly, trying to regain some control of the situation.

I looked at her for a second not taking my eyes off of her. I smiled devilishly, before I laughed hysterically. No one else had entered the library yet, but I was sure people could hear us from the outside... I could feel someone watching us... She backed away even further, almost tripping over her feet. Then, just as suddenly as I started, I stopped. Footsteps approached us. One of the librarian workers was running towards us from the back shelves.

"Grace! Are you alright?" They said. Holding her hand. Grace just stared at me, not uttering a word. The worker looked over to me then back at her. I smiled and waved nonchalantly.

"Who is this man? Did he hurt you?" She shook her head, her eyes never leaving me. "Sir... Please get out.."

I blinked in confusion. Why did she look so scared? "You want me to leave?" I said puzzled.

"Yes, you. Now get out before I get the police!" The worker yelled.

I turned around to leave. Before I was out the door, I could barely hear Grace say:

"I don't know why he did that... He always seemed so nice.."

When the doors closed behind me, I looked back at them. Looks like I won't be coming back here anytime soon... As I walked back down the road, I thought back to the events that just occurred. What was the matter with her? I hadn't done anything wrong? Had I? No...

I shook my head as I arrived back home. It was still late morning, meaning Sebastian should've already left for work sober. Hopefully, without a hangover. I opened the door and guess who was home once again? When will I ever get a break?

I walked over to the unconscious man also known as my _brother_. Barely holding onto a liquor bottle in his right hand that he must have gotten from downstairs. I looked down at him. I was right to not trust him, to not believe a word he said. Pathetic. And all that sappy shit he did yesterday all for nothing. He's late again, this is his fault. My heart stopped. Maybe I let this happen. Was it my fault? What will he do? I looked back down to him. Scanning over his sharp jawline and high cheekbones, he almost looked peaceful in this state. I should just leave him be. I stepped away from Sebastian and as I walked towards the stairs, glancing back to him before advancing to my room.

I ripped open my door and sat down on my bed. I thought back to everything that had happened during the past year. Perhaps there really is something wrong with me... _No_.. My eyes locked to the unopened parcel from Emelina. It sat in a large brown paper wrapped box, waiting to be discovered. I got up from my bed and walked over to it. Brushing off the top of the box, I looked down at it. How the hell was she even alive? How did she even deliver this to me if she's dead?

I sighed. A mess of thoughts for another day. I slowly ripped the paper off of the box and threw it on the floor. I opened the folds of the box and looked down into it. I could barely see what was in it. Pushing my hair out of my face I leaned into the box to get a better look. Some buttons with letters and numbers on it stared back up at me, and a cylinder seemed to lay on top of it... Odd. I reached my hands into the box and pulled it out. It was heavier than I expected it to be. I stumbled back a little holding the large, heavy, hunk of metal machinery in my hands.

I looked down and dropped it on my desk. What in the world? I looked at the machine and went back to the box. Nothing. How the hell was she able to afford one of these? These were expensive as hell, worth more than a carriage. Why the hell would she get this.

I sighed, glancing back at the typewriter and froze. She did this on purpose, didn't she? First I kill her, she comes back and then does this!? Large words printed on the top of the typewriter and the front. _Remington_. Is she trying to mock me? Is she doing this on purpose? I gave the typewriter a dirty look and threw it back into the box. I huffed in frustration and looked back down in it. I wanted it out of my sight. Things like that left my life a long time ago, and I wanted it to stay that way. Grabbing the heavy box once more, I slowly brought it over to the closest in the corner of the room.

I dropped the box on the floor and ripped open the door, looking into the dark and small room. Bending over, I slid the box into the corner of the closet. My eyes glanced at it for a couple of seconds before I stood back up, accidentally slamming my head against the shelf bolted to the wall.

"Damn it!" I yelled, stumbling back and rubbing the back of my head. Papers fell from the shelf and I groaned. Another mess to clean up. I bent down once more mumbling angrily to myself, picking up the papers and jumbling them together until they were in a semi neat stack. That was until I realized what they were. The papers symbolized a trait of my former self. An artist.

It had been such a long time ago. I couldn't remember the last time I sat down and went through the motions of creating. The drawings drew my gaze.. All of that had changed after Remington had died. I could've been an artist. I placed them back on the shelf. Before the door closed shut, I gave them one final, longing glance. I rubbed my eyes. All of this unneeded cause of the god damn girl and her stupid typewriter, It wasn't even afternoon and I was already drained.

I lay down on my bed once more and closed my eyes. I'll just take a small nap. 


End file.
